Work Text:
“These rustic pathways have their charms, I suppose, but they really cannot compare to the streets of Baldur’s Gate,” Astarion made another unsubtle attempt through his pointed complaints. Halsin had several centuries of practice schooling his expression, keeping the smirk from his face as the vampire spawn carried on during their traipse through the woods. Sunlight dappled through the leaves and added a certain depth to his silvery curls. “And I am a man of exceptional taste. How long will I be expected to trudge in the dirt and mud like some lowly beast?”
“A beast, is it?”
“No offense, of course. You’re a lovely bear. The prettiest in the forest.” The pale man layered on the praise, brushing it off just as effortlessly with a graceful sweep of his manicured hand. “But I am not.”
Just short of outright asking to be carried—it was unusual where the elf would draw his boundaries. Astarion was about half his age, an odd combination of almost resigned and ruthlessly jaded. He would fight like a feral cat when he did not need to and treat matters as fated that were avoidable with some effort and risk. He was not in balance, and naturally, Halsin wished to help him and see how the grandstanding rogue was in his natural state.
He needed the nudge first. Several, if his own extensive knowledge had any wisdom contained within.
“Would you like me to carry you?”
“Yes, now that you mention it,” Astarion wasted no time at all accepting.
He raised one arm as if he would be lifted into a fine carriage instead of his grasp. As if Halsin wasn’t wrapped in nature himself, armored in leather and vines and leaves. He still bent down slightly and scooped an arm behind his knees and the other around his back. Astarion draped his own arm over Halsin’s built shoulders. There was a tension in his legs that suggested he genuinely wasn’t used to such kindness, but his practiced smile did what it could to prove the contrary. Maybe someone less aware of tragedy and suffering would believe it. For Halsin, it only convinced him he made the right choice. Astarion was exactly where he needed him.
“Ugh,” Lae’zel grumbled. “You enable his laziness. Why?”
“It’s only natural for beautiful creatures to make use of their becoming qualities to thrive,” Halsin began flirting to pursue his goal. Since it appeared no one else had done so, he would demonstrate real affection to Astarion. He remained looking ahead while he finished the first compliment. “As a druid, I respect that.”
“Are you serious? I can’t tell.” Studying him from his perch, Astarion squinted. He notably did not attempt to move or demand to be let down. “You’ve got this unreadable face, and it irks me.”
The group followed Tav through the well-trod paths of the forest while the vampire spawn pouted up at Halsin’s steady smile. Wyll had been carefully quiet during the exchange, but his stifled smirk said he was planning a witty remark for when the time was right. That would be a valuable lesson for Astarion too. Friendship, firstly, and a playful tease rather than a two-faced comment. However long he’d spent mired in company with rampant ulterior motives would not be countered overnight—never mind in an afternoon.
Halsin had been accused of having a singular focus more than once, but he was never one to let that get in the way of finding new aspirations. He glanced at the skeptical rogue and appreciated how the speckled light drew attention to his eyes as well. How striking, that a creature in such opposition to daytime should seem beloved by it.
“I’m always serious about appreciating nature’s radiance.”
Incredibly pale as he was, Astarion’s cheeks flushed a bright red rather easily. Barely any strength went into the light slap against Halsin’s broad chest. Granted, the elf didn’t possess an abundance of that to spare. He was a fighter of vicious precision rather than raw power.
“Stop that. You’re wasting Tav’s precious blood, and they’re clumsy enough as it is.”
“Aw, he’s shy!” Taking his opening, Wyll joked and made sure to stride ahead to where the scowling passenger could see his grin. “Who knew our fanged friend could experience such a thing?”
“Do be quiet, or I’ll bite you,” Astarion threatened with what could have passed as scathing heat if he’d done anything but settle into Halsin’s solid arms.